I force myself to nod, like I understand. Like this all makes perfect sense, when in fact, it’s all bullshit. Somehow, I finish the haircut, pick up the blow dryer and turn it on, thankful it drowns out any further attempts at conversation.
When I turn it off, Juliana launches in, as if she’s been waiting to speak. “He really likes you, you know. You’re the first woman we’ve heard about. That’s why we came to check you out.”
My heart constricts. I almost believe her.
But it doesn’t matter whether he likes me or not.
He doesn’t like me enough.
I can’t bring myself to answer. I just force a wan smile as I remove the cape and dust the stray hairs off her neck. “That will be fifty,” I manage to say.
She pays me, and they both hesitate, as if wanting to say more, but I turn my back, walking away to fetch the broom. When I return, they’re gone.
I sit, trembling.
Bobby’s been treating me like a second-class citizen. And for what? To have a laugh at my expense? To keep me at arm’s length? Am I not good enough to be an actual girlfriend? Do you have to be Italian to make that cut? Or…what?
I can hardly think, and my next client will be here any minute.
I pick up my phone and hold it with trembling fingers. Thirty minutes ago, I’d been excited to text him to tell him I got the job. Now, though?
I grit my teeth and dial his phone number. I’m not supposed to call, but I don’t really care. Or actually, I do care. This is a test.
How he responds will tell me everything.
He doesn’t answer.
I Google-search his company and dial that number because he said he had to work today, even though it’s a Saturday.
“Lexi, you can’t call me here.” That’s how he answers.
I nod. The invisible guillotine blade just came down on his neck. “That’s what I thought,” I say tightly and end the call.
Fuck. Him.
I’m done.
This no longer works for me.
I take care of my next client then slip into the back room to call Gina. I’m afraid I might cry, and I don’t want anyone at the salon to see me.
My friend picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Lex.” She sounds sleepy, even though it’s two in the afternoon. With Gina working late nights and having a hot boyfriend who can’t get enough, she often sleeps past noon.
“Sorry did I wake you?”
“Mmm, no. I was just getting up. How are you?”
“Crappy.” My voice breaks.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Bobby’s daughters just showed up here to meet me. I guess there was a family wedding yesterday?”
Gina waits.
“Apparently I’m not good enough to merit an invite. Or to even know about it. According to them, he isn’t planning on letting them meet me, so they played detective to find me on their own.”
“Okay,” Gina says slowly like she’s trying to understand.